


scared to be lonely

by acid_glue234



Series: poetry of the senses [3]
Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Angst, Breakup, Domestic, F/F, Fluff, Sanvers Week
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-22
Updated: 2017-06-22
Packaged: 2018-11-17 04:45:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11268216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/acid_glue234/pseuds/acid_glue234
Summary: Day 5: Domesticher life is now defined by three parts; there's before maggie, during, and then there's after.





	scared to be lonely

**Author's Note:**

> title is scared to be lonely by martin garrix and dua lipa

_it was great at the very start  
_ _hands on each other  
_ _couldn't stand to be apart  
_ _the closer the better_

 _now we're picking fights and slamming doors_  
_magnifying all our flaws_  
_and i wonder why, wonder what for  
_ _why we keep coming back for more?_

**_\- M_ **

 

///

 

her life is now defined by three parts;

there's before maggie,

during,

and then there's after.

but she doesn't want to think about that, so she reads and rereads the poem maggie left behind (along with her key to the apartment), and she remains frozen in time for a spell, thinking about the good times, the great times, the absolutely  _amazing_  times.

they only got better.

until they got worse.

but she doesn't think about that either.

she thinks about the first time maggie kissed her, the first time maggie touched her, the first time maggie spent the night. she thinks about the next morning; how maggie donned her orange sleep shirt, made her coffee, played hooky from her job so they could spend a little extra time together in bed.

she thinks about the rainy sundays spent indoors; the warm fuzzy blanket maggie would drape over her shoulders when it was cold; the cheesy movies they'd watch together, cuddled up on the couch, nowhere to go, nowhere to be. 

she thinks about maggie's fingers; how they'd comb slowly, gently through her hair, strong arms wrapping around her from behind; a cold nose nudging underneath her jaw, making her laugh harder, pull maggie closer, breathe maggie in deeper.

she remembers the intimate talks, huddled underneath the sheets. the blissful sighs, the shy times; when their bare feet would touch and nothing else, eyes drooping, tired yet afire, with yearning and excitement, with eagerness and naivety.

she remembers the kisses; the soft ones, the long ones, the cold ones, the  _hot_  ones. she remembers the touches, from bashful and curious, to burning and hungry,  _passionate_.

it was all so passionate, from the start, to the very end. their partnership, their friendship, their relationship, their breakups. their love, their lovemaking, their arguments, their makeups.

she remembers the painstaking beauty of maggie's tears, the gasp of breath, the disbelief. she recalls the shaky smile, the trembling lips, the soft utterance of  _yes_.

and then louder, later that night:

_yes!_

_yes, alex!_

_yes!_

she thinks about maggie's bed shorts, how her legs would go on for days; her sleepy smile in the morning, when the birds chirped and the sunshine streamed in through the open blinds.

she thinks about maggie's beautiful hands, her nimble fingers, always seeking her out, for a touch, a hand to hold, a sweet caress, a powerful orgasm.

or four.

she thinks about that sound, at first a soft knock, and then later a turning key; hears the "i'm home, babe," sees the  _hey there_  smile, feels the  _i missed you_  kisses, waits for the  _let's fuck_  smirk, and then later, the  _i love you_  look.

 _ohh_..

…

the  _i love you_  look.

she misses that most of all.

that  _i love you, i want you, i need you_  look that maggie always wore, whenever those dark brown eyes landed on her, whenever that sweet smile stretched far and wide, whenever those soft lips curled and those pretty dimples came out to play; whenever maggie would stay the night and still be there the next morning, whenever she shared a secret that made alex's heart soar, whenever maggie called her  _babe_ , and then left her the last slice of pizza, the last bottle of beer.

now, alone, in her cold empty bed, she thinks about maggie's laugh, her giggle, even her silly snort; how her glossy eyes would tear up and shine with a dark twinkle, so bright, so happy, illuminating a joy that would last for days, weeks, months.

years even.

alex remembers the smell of a hot breakfast, starving in more ways than one. hungry for affection, she thinks about knowing smiles shared in secret, about confessions of love shared in private as the beating of their hearts synchronized to a rhythm all their own.

bum

bum

bum

she thinks about midnight dance parties, and sex on the kitchen fl—

bum  
bum  
bum

she sits up. the apartment is quiet, so quiet she can almost hear her heart beating in her chest over the room tone. she waits...but nothing, retreating back down into her lonely bed.

she thinks about maggie's voice. she can still hear it now; so stern and demanding on the force, yet so soft and loving in the confines of this apart—

bum  
bum  
bum

she closes her eyes, clenches them shut.  _too good to be true, too good to be true_. it's the perfect saying; she almost thought she heard—

 _bum_  
_bum  
_ _bum_

that  _is_  what she heard.

she zips out of bed, towards her foyer. the key is still on the ground, from when maggie slid it under the door. alex picks it up, listens to three more bangs, and then hears, "alex, it's me!  _please_ , baby, open the door."

wasting not another minute, she swings the door open, and on the other side is maggie, looking just as distraught as alex feels.

and yet distraught, still amazing. beautiful. absolutely gorgeous. with those deep brown eyes, dark and stunning; that worried lip, dimples still set even without a smile; those smooth, pinched eyebrows, regretful and sad; and her ample red cheekbones, pink and tear-stained, a warm, curved landscape made especially for maggie's tears of sorrow and joy.

nothing is said. nothing is done.

barely breathing, they wait and stare, like it's been months;

like it's been years.

but it's only been less than three hours.

"can i come in?" maggie asks, with a hitch in her breath.

the cold metal burns in alex's palm. it doesn't belong to her. she reaches for maggie's hand, uncurls her fingers.

maggie smiles when a silver key is pressed against her skin, and alex cries when she sees the diamond ring still glistening on her ~~ex~~ -fiancée’s finger.

"always."

**Author's Note:**

> poem is song lyrics to scared to be lonely by martin garrix and dua lipa


End file.
